All The Ages Alone
by Janette Morgan
Summary: He was a lot of things. A computer, a bit of a moron. But most importantly, he was her friend. How could she live with what she'd done? How could he? Alone with her thoughts, Chell thinks about what happened and what she'd really like Wheatley to know.


I'm sorry.

If we ever met again, if fate ever granted me the chance to speak, that's what I'd say to you. I'm sorry. None of this should have happened. It wasn't your fault. Neither of us knew what we were getting ourselves into. True, we'd been told. But I think that we were both so used to being lied to that we never could have known what was true.

You know, that's one of the first things I liked about you: your honesty. True, there were a few seconds when I didn't trust you, and I thought you must have come for some other reason – to kill me, do some tests, whatever. What She would have done. But then you started talking, and I realized that you were nothing like Her. Maybe it was your biggest curse – your failure to ever tell any kind of lie. You said things that should have offended me, should have cut me to the core. But they didn't, because the only thing I was thinking at that moment was: finally, someone who can tell me the truth. Even when you weren't completely honest, it was so easy to tell that you were lying, and it was always about something so completely stupid that I didn't even care.

I know that you were trying to help. What happened wasn't your fault. It was Cave, still living in his own twisted way in that machine, who corrupted you into that monster. Just like it corrupted her. Caroline. Or GlaDOS. I guess we'll never know where one ended and the other began.

I wish that we could have done something different. I wished it even then. But things were desperate, I was about to die, and I acted impulsively. Do I regret saving my own life? I can't say that I do. But I regret what happened between us. As much as I regret plugging you into that damn computer in the first place. You didn't know what would happen. Neither did I. And I don't think we could have done anything different, not if we wanted to escape with our lives. The funny thing about regret, though, is that it doesn't matter what you could or couldn't have done. You still have to live knowing that something went wrong, and it was your fault.

I'm alone now. I thought that would be a relief to me after what I went through, but it turns out that I really hate it. I was so used to hearing someone's voice that being out here in the silence makes me feel like I might go mad. I can't even talk to myself and pretend that someone's there. Cubey... well, he keeps me company. But at the end of the day he's a fancy-looking crate with some hearts painted on. He's not a person. He doesn't care if I live or die.

You cared. I don't know how or why, but you did, bless your little machine brain. The first time you came into my world is the first time that I remember someone caring about me. I don't remember anything that She talked about – if I was abandoned by my parents, adopted, anything like that. I only remember the tests. The feeling of being used, out of control, unloved. Then you were there, and for a few wonderful hours there was someone looking out for me. Someone who was clueless, naïve, and too eager to be important – but he _cared._

I try and tell myself I can have that again. She said that there were other humans out here, somewhere. I don't think She lied, because she said it to hurt me. But if I find them, what happens? I can't speak. They'll never know what I've been through. You may not truly know either, but at least you were there.

I'm sorry. I keep staring up at the moon, wondering if you're still there or if you're still alive or what you're thinking about me right now. Repeating those words until they've carved themselves a hole in my brain. If we met again – I think you'd know. Even though I've never spoken to you, you always seemed to understand what I meant when it really mattered.

Sometimes I wish there was someone looking over the Earth, like She looks over that laboratory. Someone who could help. Bring you back; take me to you. I don't care. Even if all She did was talk to me it would lessen the pain. Maybe enough that I could do something. I want to do something. I came up with a pretty good plan, too. I mean, solving problems – that's always been my strong point, I think we both know.

But I can't, because I don't have the moon rocks. They're in there, with Her. And if I tried to go back there I think she'd kill me if she did anything at all. Besides, to be honest, I've forgotten the way back.

I'm sorry. For playing into Her trap, for corrupting you, for stranding you up there. If we ever met again, that's the first thing I'd want you to know. I truly regret everything that happened, and I am deeply, eternally sorry. If you're still up there, still alive, still thinking about me – I hope that you know that.

And I hope you can forgive me.


End file.
